


You're The Only Option

by writershapeholeonthedoor



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Cute, Dorks in Love, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Love, Romance, Romantic Fluff, True Love, root is just so happy, shaw is so in love that she can't even believe it, they're the best type of caotic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-26 01:30:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20035639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writershapeholeonthedoor/pseuds/writershapeholeonthedoor
Summary: Shaw comes across the 'Emergency Contact List' one day while searching for something to do.





	You're The Only Option

**Author's Note:**

> Go follow me on Tumblr, @imagineheadcanonsarea! You can send me a prompt, if you have one, send me an ask or a message, or just look at things there.  
Also, English is not my first language, so please let me know if there's anything wrong!

Shaw hated being around the subway alone, mostly because she felt useless with nothing to do. Fusco, Reese and Harold had their jobs, and Root never seemed to have any free time, so it wasn’t such a hard thing to happen, but usually Bear was around so she could pass her time with him. But Root had take him with her since her number was a veterinarian and Shaw was literally alone there.

She tried to stare at the computers so see if a number would come up if she put enough pressure in The Machine, but she got bored quickly. So Shaw decided to clean all her guns and knives, but most of her things were in her apartment and she was done with her task faster than she would like. Then she tried to nap, but the old estructure of the subway kept making small noises that kept her awake, so she had to do something else to distract herself.

The former marine finally decided to clean up a little, after doing some push ups for a while. That idea lasted less than ten seconds, because she only had to take one look around to realize she didn’t want to waste her time cleaning that place. She didn’t even cleaned her own apartment... Shaw was about to scream in frustration when she remembered Harold had some old journals in a drawer somewhere. She could do some crosswords, she used to like doing them during the boring classes at med school, or fold some paper airplanes to throw at people.

Shaw walked to his desk, whistling to herself, and started to open the drawers to find them. She found gum, candies and chocolates – she couldn’t wait until Harold was back so she could tease him about it. There was also some random documents, old tests and other things from his work at the top ones, some keys, wires, plugs and extensions at the bottom ones, but she only found the journals when she removed a tissue box.

She rested her back in the back of the chair, sighning gladly, bringing the old journals and a pen with her. There was some of the crosswords that were complete or had a word or two wrote in them, but most of them were in blank, so she could enjoy it. Shaw selected one of the journals, throwing the other ones on top of the keyboard in the desk, and took the top out of the pen with her teeth. She unfolded the journal so she could let it more comfortable to write on, but a piece of paper slided of it when she did. It fell from between the journal, hit her leg, before slowly falling to the ground, almost like it was mocking her for making her move from her comfortable position.

Shaw sighed and leaned over to grab it. She wasn’t trying to read it or anything, but the paper wasn’t folded and he landed with the writing part turned to the ceiling, so the words just jumped to her eyes and it was impossible not to read it.

‘Emergency Contact List’

She frowned, a little confused, taking the paper closer to her face. Reese’s name was written down in the first line, with his awful calligraphy, and she needed a time to understand all of it.

John Reese – Joss Carter – (212) 555-0487

Reading the name made Shaw’s heart drop to her stomach. Carter was nice, fierce, she could interrogate people like no one, everyone missed her. Shaking her head, Shaw moved to the next line.

Harold Finch – Matthew Finch – (514) 527-8241

Finch had mentioned something once that made her believe he might have a family somewhere, but she had no idea who Matthew was. She doubted it was his son, she knew it wasn’t his father, so she guessed it might be a brother or uncle.

Lionel Fusco – Lee Fusco – (212) 555-3294

Suddenly, Shaw remembered what that was about. Finch had told her about it when she joined the team, saying he had to find the list so she could leave a number to contact if anything bad happened to her – bad like dead. She had scoffed at him, saying she had no one and he dropped the subject shortly after when a number come up. They never talked about it again. Apparently, the list needed to be updated anyway.

To be honest, Shaw did have a name to put there – her mother – but she thought that receive that phone call was not something her mother needed to go through. The woman told her once that her biggest fear was receive a phone call from the army telling her that Shaw died in the field, so she wasn’t going to put her mother in line to receive that call.

She placed the list at the desk, looking at it with furrowed brows and crossed arms. She had no one else to put there. No siblings, uncles, aunts, cousins. If she had any problems with the subject – death – she could find it sad.

Shaw thought about it for a second, journal forgotten in her lap, while swinging the pen between her fingers. If she ever died at work, no one knew who they were supposed to call. Her mother wouldn’t know something happened until she missed her scheduled anual call at the Islamic New Year. Her mother wouldn’t know who to call to ask about her. She would simply disappear one day and that would be it.

The ex marine sighed tiredly.

Yet, she didn’t thought that her mother deserved to have Finch calling her to give the news – or Reese or, God forbid it, Fusco. And maybe it was better if her mother didn’t find out. As far as the woman knew, Shaw was working at some random store at the mall, she had no idea that her daughter walked around pointing guns to other people or having guns pointed at her, and maybe it was better if she kept thinking that. She didn’t needed to know Shaw got shot and died like she feared for years while her daughter was a part of U.S. Navy.

Literally, the only person who would miss her other than her mother was Bear – and he wasn’t actually a person. And he didn’t had a phone number. If anything happened, she simply wouldn’t walk inside the subway anymore and the dog would forget about her one day. Maybe he could stay with her apartment after she died, like a big dog’s house.

Her apartment. She thought back a few nights before when she entered her apartment and smelled pizza. Fresh pizza, like actually warm pizza, not leftovers from a week that she forgot to throw out. There was song coming from a old radio in the corner of the space that was supposed to be the living room – Queen, from what she got. By the door’s side, there was a black boot too large to fit her feet and a race shoes that was too neon for her taste. There was a coat behind the door already and it emanated the smell of vanilla and strawberries, along with some cutted grass that told her the piece of cloth had met the ground at some point that day.

Root walked out of the bathroom, pulling a hoodie over her head – Shaw’s old army hoodie – and instantly smiled when she saw she wasn’t alone at the apartment anymore. She greeted her with a warm “night night, sweetie”, but Shaw didn’t replied. Instead, the persian took her combat boot off, putting it beside the other shoes by the door, took her jacket off and hanged it behind the door with the coat, and slid her key in the lock, effectively closing the door. Root was waiting for her when she started to walk and gave her a sweet and caring kiss, sliding her arms around Shaw’s neck to pull her close.

Shaw wasn’t used to affection, especially that freely, but Root was doing that for almost a year now and she had learned to just go with it intead of overanalyzate it. To enjoy it when Root was around, because God knows that the hacker could disappear sometimes and stay away for too long. The Machine required a lot from her, a lot of time from her, and Root would never back down of a mission, even if it took all she got to complete it. She stayed a month out once and Shaw was clingy as fuck after she got back. She learned her lesson, you could say.

They ate the pizza in the couch while Root told her about some funny story she remembered. Then Shaw had told her about punching someone’s nose, to which the hacker had whispered ‘my girl’ between bites. Root turned off the lights and put some blankets in bed while Shaw took a shower, and was waiting for her in bed once she got out. She was there when Shaw went to sleep and she was there when Shaw woke up.

Shaw didn’t remembered to have asked Root to move in with her – that’s because she hadn’t – neither she remembered Root asking to move to her apartment – that’s because she also hadn’t – but somehow that was the scenario she found herself in. Root was there when Shaw went to sleep and she was there when Shaw woke up. How she did it without a key? Shaw knew she could break in so easily as breathing and picture it actually did some funny things with her inside. She found it arousing, even if a little amusing. She didn't cared that Root basically pushed herself inside her apartment - she knew she would never have the courage to ask.

The paper in front of her screamed to get her attention, like there was a huge ass arrow pointing straight at the empty line under Fusco’s name. It was quite stupid to do it, considering that the hacker would find out anyway, but Shaw kept reminding of the long missions that took Root away for days, weeks, months. And they had a huge history of disappearing to take in consideration.

The pen in her hand stoped suddenly, between the tips of her thumb and ring finger. There was no other point to do it other than prevent a possible situation where Root would be away and wouldn’t know right away that something happened, because Shaw was sure everyone there knew they were supposed to call Root if anything went wrong.

Yet, Shaw leaned over, holding the pen firmly, and sighed.

Sameen Shaw – Root – (212) 546-8769

She droped the pen like it had burned her skin and looked at the white paper in front of her. She wanted to punch her own face. It was ridiculous, really. There was no point to...

“Hi, sweetie!” Root’s voice came from behind her and Shaw jumped in the chair in surprise.

Looking over her shoulder, Shaw saw that Root was walking inside the subway with Bear happily walking by her side, so the woman was far enough yet. Shaw turned around, grabbing the journals quickly to stuff the paper between them, and sticked them all in the first drawer she could open. She kept one, the one in her lap, so she could pretend she was doing something else.

“Sup.” Shaw greeted, turning her chair around.

Root was using a pink blouse and black skirt, and Shaw was instantly sure that she had stolen those on her way to the number, because that was not something Root had in her wardrobe, for sure. Bear, in the other hand, had his tongue out, tail wiggling, and a very cute green tie around his neck attached to his leash. Root took his leash out and Bear didn’t took a second before running towards Shaw.

He jumped on her and she realized imediatly that he had take a shower – or gain a shower, whatever. “Hi, handsome! How are you? You’re looking good and you don’t even smell anymore.” Her voice became much more strident, but that only made Bear happier, so she didn’t cared. Shaw petted him with a smile the whole time.

“Yeah. Number was so happy that I didn’t let someone kill him that he gave a full day at dog's spa for Bear.” Root told her, approaching with a wild grin. “Whatcha’ doing?” She asked, before leaning over the chair's armrest with her hands to kiss Shaw. The former marine blushed a little, but complied.

“Crosswords.” Shaw answered with a shrug and went back to pet Bear’s head in her lap.

“How are you going? Need help?” Root looked around, trying to find a chair to sit on, but they only had one. She could grab a bench, but they were all uncomfortable.

“Nah, it’s quite boring anyway.” She didn’t want to show the untouched crossword, but Root took it out off her lap before she could put it away.

“Silly, we can do it together.” The hacker’s happy smile stoped whatever answer Shaw might have thought. It never stoped amazing her how Root could be happy with the smallest things they did together. “Bear, can I borrow my girlfriend, please?” She joked, putting both hands in her hips.

The dog, like he could understand her, barked once, before storming out to his water pot in the corner of the room. With a satisfied smirk, Root nodded once, before sitting down in Shaw’s lap where Bear’s head was just a second before. The persian stiffed, but allowed her body to relax once she realized they were alone. Root threw one arm around her shoulders so she could hold the journal in that hand so both could read it, holding the pen with the other one.

“Okay, let’s see... Six letters for crazy.”

Shaw smiled, taking a deep breath of vanilla and strawberries, before pointing at the page. “Root.”

“First, that’s four letters.” Root rolled her eyes and shook her head, but had a teasing beam. “Second, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She raised a third finger to add some effect. “Third, you love that.”

Yes. Yes, she did.

**Author's Note:**

> PS: All numbers were really random, but Carter's phone number, since we know that one.


End file.
